


i choose you

by jinwoosmile



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Mild references to sex, confident vs panicked gay, cursing, spoiler: mj is the panicked one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 16:42:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14919071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinwoosmile/pseuds/jinwoosmile
Summary: in which myungjun accidentally physically runs into a cute guy, and that guy turns out to be a really hot model for myungjun's advanced figure drawing class.alternatively: myungjun is a panicked gay, jinwoo is a confident gay, dongmin just wants the best for his friend, and bin says the worst things





	i choose you

Myungjun was late.

This was not an unusual event, but today, he was _really late_. Like, later than normal. So late that metaphorical clouds of dust where billowing behind him as he raced down the street to attempt to make it to his Advanced Figure Drawing 351 class in any semblance of on time.

_Stupid early bus_ , he thought, dodging a woman walking her dog. _Stupid portfolio_ , he thought, cringing as the giant unwieldy bag banged first into the doorframe of the art building, and then into his leg. _Stupid stairs_ , he thought, panting as he sprinted up to the third floor, unhindered by other people because he was _so fucking late_.

A miserable experience came to its tragic climax as Myungjun rounded a corner and his sandals, which were his rubber slides that he had barely managed to put on in his rush to get out the door, stuck to the tile floor. He tripped, starting the longest and least elegant fall in the universe - stumbling and nearly recovering three times over, only to finally meet his demise when he collided with another person.

“Shit,” Myungjun groaned. His portfolio had come open, spilling sketches and supplies all over the floor.

“Oh man. I’m so sorry,” a gruff voice said, and Myungjun finally looked up at the person he had bowled into. A guy, roughly his age, was looking sheepishly down at him. “Do you need some help?”

Myungjun sighed, pushing himself onto his knees. “Please,” he said, reaching for the nearest escaped paper. “I’m so late.”

The stranger knelt down with him, hurriedly trying to help him gather up his things. “Are you taking this drawing class?” he asked, jerking his head towards Myungjun’s classroom. When Myungjun nodded, the stranger smiled. “The professor was late, so you’re probably gonna be okay.”

“Thank god,” Myungjun said, accepting the papers and pencils that the stranger offered back to him. Scrambling up to his feet, Myungjun finally _really_ looked at the guy - he was short, about Myungjun’s height, and looked like he had rolled out of bed no earlier than twenty minutes ago. Sandy fringe that fell over his forehead and an oversized white t-shirt made him look overall soft, with round eyes and a surprisingly sharp jawline. “Sorry for running into you, but I really gotta go,” Myungjun said.

“No problem,” the guy said, eyes crinkling as he smiled again. “Have a good class.”

With that, Myungjun finally rushed into the classroom, and was relieved that the professor was still writing out the week’s schedule on the chalkboard. He squeezed his way over to the last open desk, and started pulling out his sketchbooks and pencils.

“Today,” the professor said, putting his chalk down and turning to face the class, “We have two models. An hour and a half each, ten minutes of two minute gestures, twenty minutes of five minute drawings, then two ten minute drawings. You and the models will take a break, and then we’ll come back for a half hour of a single pose.” The professor clapped his hands together. “We’re nearing the end of the semester, and we are proceeding from our focus on isolated appendages to full drawings of the body. I would like to remind you that these drawings are the basis for your final project, and that the human body is an art form in and of itself.”

The professor looked around the classroom, laying a heavy gaze on each student. “I will not tolerate any childishness in my classroom. Violate this, and you will be asked to leave and receive a reduction in your attendance grade. Everyone clear?”

There was a mumbled hum of agreement, and the professor opened the door to invite their first model in. Myungjun hummed quietly to himself as he selected his charcoal, flipping to a fresh sheet in his drawing pad as the model stepped onto the raised platform in the center of the room and confidently stripped off her robe. The professor called for them to begin, and a hush fell over the room as sixteen people started sketching.

Myungjun loved drawing. He was better at painting, and for that reason was concentrating in it for his fine arts degree. Taking an advanced drawing class, though, was an opportunity to continue improving as an artist. Figure drawing had been the only class that fit in his schedule, and the human body presented subtle shapes and depth that took great skill to capture. It was a fantastic challenge, and as they proceeded through the warm-up gestures to the longer drawings Myungjun could feel the stress of his commute falling away as he rendered hair falling over shoulders and the bend of an elbow on paper.

At the break, the model pulled her robe back on and joyfully chatted with some of her friends in the class. Myungjun stood and stretched, then rooted around in his bag for a granola bar to snack on as he flipped through his drawings. They were distinctly improved from anything he could have attempted in the beginning of the semester.

“Looking lovely, Myungjun,” the model said, wandering over to his desk.

Myungjun laughed. “Don’t you get tired of seeing drawings of yourself?” he asked, stepping back so that she could flip through his work.

Smiling, Hyunah shrugged. “If I didn’t like looking at it I wouldn’t be a model,” she said. “After four years, I’m still quite happy seeing it.” She patted Myungjun’s cheek, then pointed at one of his five minute sketches. “You’ve made my boobs big here. Are you doing some wistful thinking?” she sing-songed.

“If that was the case they wouldn’t be there at all,” Myungjun sang back. Hyunah laughed, walking away to investigate the work of other artists.

A few minutes later, the professor came back to the classroom, and the half hour drawing began. The room was all but silent, save for the scratching of pencils and charcoal on paper. A half hour was a longer session for a drawing with a live model, especially if they were in a more demanding pose. But it was enough time to render lots of details, and by the end of the session Myungjun was more than semi-pleased with his work.

As Hyunah was climbing down from the platform and the professor quietly thanked her for her work, Myungjun overheard a few of the other students whispering about the next model.

“Do you know who this Park Jinwoo guy is?” one girl said. “I’ve never seen his name before.”

“He must be a new model,” another answered.

“Do you think he’s a freshman?”

“Maybe. They usually don’t have freshmen, though - too self-conscious.”

“He could be older and just not have done it before, who knows.”

Hearing the exchange, Myungjun frowned. His roommate was one of the models for the art department (a gig which Myungjun had helped him get), and he had assumed that Dongmin would be in their class when he mentioned that he had a modeling slot the night before. Nonetheless, when he looked at the chalkboard the name _Park Jinwoo_ was written in their teacher’s scrawl, right underneath _Kim Hyunah_.

Before he could think any further, the door to the classroom opened, and the students fell silent. Myungjun looked up, and felt his stomach drop out of his body.

It was the same guy that he had nearly taken out earlier in the day, but...not. Gone were the sleepy eyes and soft fringe, the oversized shirt and jeans. Instead, Myungjun was looking at a guy that was distinctly Hot. Like, _really hot._

In the hour and a half since being nearly trampled, the guy had fixed his hair to expose his forehead, falling to the side in tousled locks. The robe he was wearing was cinched by the belt at his waist, revealing a trim v-shape from shoulders to waistline that his other clothes had not. This godforsaken robe was also falling open on his chest, revealing a hint of what Myungjun thought could be a six-pack to rival Dongmin’s.

Myungjun, in short, was ready to sink into the ground and never return. The feeling only got worse as the man - named Park Jinwoo - approached the raised platform. At the same time, he was approaching Myungjun’s desk, because - _lucky him_ \- the last open spot had been directly in front of the platform. Having just four feet of space between himself and Hyunah had been no problem - Myungjun had been drawing Hyunah all semester, and her being their first fully nude model had raised no issue. A complete lack of interest in girls probably helped, as well.

“Hey,” Park Jinwoo said, giving Myungjun the same kind smile that he had when he handed him the stack of escaped papers.

“Hi,” Myungjun managed, hoping it didn’t sound too strangled. Four feet of space between him and Park Jinwoo - who was about to be naked - was not enough. Four miles wouldn’t have been enough.

The professor interrupted his internal panic. “Same process,” he called out. “Five two minutes gestures, four five minute sketches, two ten minutes, a break, and then a half hour drawing.” Lowering his voice to address the model, he asked, “Are you ready?”

“Yes sir,” Park Jinwoo responded, pulling off his robe and settling on the stool that was on the platform. The professor took a moment to direct him into a pose, and then their time to draw began.

Myungjun’s mind had gone completely blank. His hand moved automatically, rapidly sketching out the basics of the pose and managing to get most of an outline down before the two minutes were up. As the professor directed Jinwoo into his next pose, Myungjun took a moment to have a mental pep talk.

_You are an artist. You have drawn many attractive people. It does not matter that he is hot. He is just another attractive person, and if you do not draw him, you will not pass your class._

A mental wall built, Myungjun looked back up and poised himself to begin again. For the rest of the short drawings, he was able to maintain an artistic indifference to the very attractive man sitting not two yards away from him. Even Park Jinwoo’s abs which, as he had thought, definitely rivaled Dongmin’s, weren’t enough to break through the Professional Artist Wall that Myungjun had built for himself.

When his professor finally called for break after the second ten minute drawing, Myungjun sunk back into his chair, letting his eyes fall closed and simply breathing for a moment. Around him, the classroom came to life, people shuffling out of chairs and beginning to chat again.

“Is this yours?” Myungjun opened his eyes, and Park Jinwoo was standing in front of him (wearing the robe once more thank _god_ ), holding up a small notebook. “I found it in the hall after you ran into class.”

The black notebook in question, covered in stickers of Line characters, was in fact Myungjun’s. “Yeah,” he said, accepting it gratefully. “Thank you.”

Park Jinwoo’s eyes crinkled again, a stark contrast to the serious faces Myungjun had been drawing for the past hour. “No problem. You seemed like you were in a rush.”

Myungjun felt his cheeks flush as he tucked the notebook away in his portfolio. “Yeah, um, I’m so sorry again. I took an accidental nap and my bus came early, and,” he waved a hand through the air. “Not a good time.”

Park Jinwoo laughed. “Don’t worry, I get it.” He stuck his hand out. “Park Jinwoo.”

Myungjun glanced down at his charcoal-covered hands, then rubbed one off as best he could on his shorts. “Kim Myungjun,” he replied, gingerly taking Jinwoo’s hand. He tried valiantly not to stare at the way the robe was slipping down Jinwoo’s shoulders, exposing his collarbones once more.

For a few moments, they simply stood there, hands still clasped. Jinwoo pulled away first, coughing slightly. Myungjun dropped his hand, panic at having forgotten any kind of social nicety rising in his chest. “Um, do you want to - uh, look?” He gestured at his sketchpad.

Jinwoo looked surprised. “Um,” he said, shifting a bit. “No, I uh - I don’t think I want to see.”

“Of course, no problem,” Myungjun said, too quickly. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to save them from the awkward air that had suddenly surrounded them. “I’m going to go get some water,” he announced, shoving his chair back and tearing out of the room before he could make a bigger fool of himself.

After escaping to the bathroom to splash water on his face and rebuild his Professional Artist Wall, Myungjun returned to the studio. The professor was arranging Jinwoo in a new pose, making sure he was comfortable to sit still for half an hour, and Myungjun pretended to be completely indifferent to the way the professor had Jinwoo sitting with his legs spread, elbows resting on his knees like he was leaned in to say something important.

The next thirty minutes seemed to stretch into hours as Myungjun worked on the drawing. In the end, the result was shakier, a bit more muddied than his usual work. As he rapidly packed up his supplies, Myungjun wondered if he could get away with skipping class Jinwoo was listed as a model for and still pass.

Without looking towards the platform, Myungjun managed to throw everything in his bag and bolt for the door. As he disappeared, he thought he might have heard his name, but the humiliation from earlier spurred him out of the building and back towards his apartment.

* * *

“You were supposed to be in my Advanced Drawing class today!” This shout, along with a hurled slipper, was how Myungjun greeted his roommate’s return to their apartment later that evening.

Dongmin yelped, jumping as the slipper made contact with his chest. He stood in the entryway, staring at Myungjun with a bewildered look on his face. “I was in 205 today,” he said after a moment. “Introduction to painting?”

Myungjun huffed, hopping towards him on one foot to retrieve his slipper. “Well, since you were in _that_ class, a new beautiful model was in ours, and I made an absolute _fool_ of myself in front of him.” He shoved his foot into his slipper and then marched into the kitchen, intent to make a ramen for himself and not for his traitorous roommate.

He couldn’t hear the laugh, but the smile on Dongmin’s face when he followed Myungjun into the kitchen. “I’m sure you didn’t look like an _absolute_ fool,” he said soothingly. “You were an idiot meeting me and Bin and we’re still friends with you.”

Myungjun set the pot on the stove with a sharp clang, then turned to face Dongmin. “I asked him if he wanted to see my drawings,” he deadpanned.

“Oh, come on, that’s not _that_ bad-”

“We started nude drawings today,” Myungjun continued.

A beat. “Ah,” Dongmin said.

“Yeah,” Myungjun agreed.

They were silent for another moment, and then Myungjun turned and poured water into the pot to boil.

“Can I see drawings?” Dongmin asked.

Myungjun nearly dropped the unopened ramen packet into the boiling water, plastic and all. “What the hell? No!”

“Why not?” Dongmin whined. “I wanna know what he looks like if he had you so flustered.”

“I’m not letting you see my shitty _nude drawings_ of a guy I think is hot!” Myungjun screeched.

Dongmin cringed. “Please never say that sentence again, you sound like a pervert.”

“ _You_ sound like a pervert!” Myungjun snapped back. He tried to read the instructions on the ramen, couldn’t focus, and threw the packet on the counter in defeat. “I’m going to get something from the street vendors.”

Much to his dismay, Dongmin followed him out the door. “C’mon, hyung, at least tell me his name. I’ll research him for you!”

“I don’t want you nosing into this, I’ve already made a fool of myself. Should we get stuffed dumplings?”

Dongmin groaned, somehow managing to act more like a five year old than Myungjun. “You haven’t dated in ages, this would be good for you,” he continued, ignoring Myungjun’s question.

“Or we could go to that chicken place a few blocks over, or get black bean noodles.”

Another sigh. “I promised Bin next time I got chicken I’d call him. But hyung -”

“Noodles, then,” Myungjun interrupted. “Let’s go to the place that puts the egg on top, they’re open late.”

Finally, Dongmin let it drop, and they walked in silence to the noodle shop a few blocks away. They ate quietly, finally exchanging the small talk that Myungjun had curtailed by throwing his shoe earlier. It was only when they were walking back to their apartment that Dongmin brought Park Jinwoo back up.

“Look, hyung, I know you have a tendency to completely clam up when you experience accidental embarrassment instead of the embarrassment you purposefully cause, but I doubt you made as big a fool of yourself as you think you did. It wouldn’t kill you to ask him out and at least see if he thinks you’re a bumbling idiot?”

“Gee, thanks,” Myungjun said. “I’m gonna text Bin and tell him you’re reverting to robot mode again.”

Dongmin frowned. “You know what I mean,” he sighed.

Myungjun blew a breath out of his nose. “Look, Dongminnie,” he said. “I know you want the best for me and all, but I’m gonna have to draw this guy in his birthday suit for at least the next couple weeks. I don’t wanna complicate that by trying to date him at the same time, regardless of the first impression I made. I need to be a professional artist,” Myungjun said primly.

“Ergo, you don’t want to picture what he looks like naked in bed instead of naked in a classroom,” Dongmin said. Myungjun squawked, smacking him on the arm. “Ow! Ow, hyung, stop! I get it! Stop hitting me!”

And so the matter was dropped. Myungjun continued going to class and trying not to die of embarrassment each time Jinwoo was their model. After a few sessions where Jinwoo would come up to chat with Myungjun during the break, Myungjun started running away to the bathroom, where he would spend the ten minutes reminding himself that he didn’t even know if Jinwoo was into guys and rebuilding his Professional Artist Wall.

Since becoming aware of Jinwoo’s existence, Myungjun started spotting him around the city and on campus, sometimes wearing large headphones and looking lost in whatever he was listening to, sometimes with a large golden retriever. One time, he saw him jogging on campus with the dog, glistening with sweat and dressed in a cutout tank top.

Most of that particular sighting was unfortunate. For one, seeing Jinwoo with his arms out and covered in sweat made Myungjun almost dizzy enough to need to sit down. For two, he witnessed the sight coming head-on, which mean he had to dart off of the sidewalk and into the safety of the bushes. For three, he not only had his portfolio on him, but Dongmin as well, both of which he yanked into the foliage with him.

“What the hell, hyung?” Dongmin exclaimed, stumbling and nearly falling into the mulch.

“Shut up!” Myungjun hissed, giving his portfolio a sharp tug to pull it fully into the bushes.

Dongmin frowned, then looked out of the bushes just as Jinwoo ran by, panting in all his sweat-soaked, tank-topped glory. Myungjun could see Dongmin’s eyes go wide, even before the younger boy’s head snapped towards him. “Is that him?” he asked.

“Shut up,” Myungjun said again, weaker this time. He was watching Jinwoo jog away, waiting for him to be far enough down the road to emerge from the bushes without being spotted.

“He looks really familiar,” Dongmin continued, as if Myungjun hadn’t spoken.

Judging that Jinwoo was sufficiently far away, Myungjun gently lobbed his portfolio over the bush, rather than try to yank it through again. “Well I would think so, you both work as models for the art department.”

Dongmin was still frowning as he climbed out of the foliage after Myungjun. “No, I think I know him from somewhere else. God, it’s going to bother me.” He looked at Myungjun with pleading eyes. “Please, can’t you just tell me his name? I’ve actively not looked through the list of other models for your sake.”

Myungjun shook his head. “The fewer connections, the better,” he said. He picked up his portfolio, then reached up and pulled a twig out of Dongmin’s hair. “Let’s just go home, I don’t have the energy to deal with this right now.”

As annoying as he could be, Dongmin was a good friend. He let Myungjun continue to deflect questions about the man, and sometimes also let him complain about it without giving him too much flack for it.

At the same time that Myungjun continued ignore Park Jinwoo’s existence, his Advanced Drawing professor continued to remind him (and the rest of his class) about their final projects. Their studio drawings had gotten progressively longer, and their professor was constantly reminding them that they needed to arrange time outside of class with one of the models, or another willing body, to complete their final drawing.

Myungjun had meant to schedule this early. He was hoping to get one of the models besides Dongmin or Jinwoo, and keep everything as impersonal as possible. Somehow, though, it fell through the cracks of four other classes, and he suddenly found himself with an inbox full of “Sorry, I’m already fully booked up” from every other model that he didn’t A) live with or B) have a giant crush on.

Which is how he found himself complaining to Bin and Dongmin about it on their living room floor, two boxes of chicken and a halfway gone six pack of beer between the three of them.

“And then when Kang Younghyun finally texted me back, I lost all other options besides your boyfriend,” he said, pointing at Bin, “and Park _fuckin’_ Jinwoo.”

“How tragic,” Dongmin said, voice full of faux pity. “Thanks for finally telling me his name.” Bin attempted to make a noise around a huge mouthful of chicken, but Dongmin shushed him with a whispered, “Manners.”

Myungjun sighed. “Well now that I might have to have him pose here I may as well, at the rate my luck is going there’s not going to be a studio space available.”

Bin finally managed to swallow his food. “Park Jinwoo is the hot guy you’ve been complaining about for two months?” he asked, fumbling for his phone. Myungjun’s brow furrowed, and he leaned forward when Bin extended his phone across across the coffee table. “This Park Jinwoo?”

Myungjun gasped, grabbing Bin’s phone and yanking it closer to his face. “How do you know him?”

Bin threw his head back and laughed. “He’s part of my dance crew. Minnie, can you pass me your - yeah, thanks.” Rapid tapping followed as Bin messed with Dongmin’s laptop, and when he turned it around for Myungjun to see, it was open to a dance practice of Bin’s street crew on YouTube. “He’s the third one on the left,” Bin said, and Dongmin gasped.

“This is where I know him from!” he exclaimed. “He did the really fast foot stuff, right?”

“House dancing, yeah,” Bin agreed.

They continued talking as the dance practice played, leaving Myungjun to stare as Park Jinwoo body rolled and slid across the screen, as smooth as any other dancer. He let autoplay start the next dance practice, and the one after that. Eventually, he became aware of being watched and looked up to meet Bin and Dongmin’s gazes.

“I’m fucked,” he groaned, letting his head fall against the coffee table.

Dongmin hummed, reaching across the table to pat Myungjun’s head. “Well, at least you already know what his dick looks like so you can be prepared,” Bin said, quickly followed by a wheeze as Dongmin elbowed him sharply in the ribs and Myungjun groaned again.

* * *

_[2:18 PM] To: Unknown_

_Hi Park Jinwoo, this is Kim Myungjun. I’m in the Drawing 351 class. Are you available to grab coffee sometime later today? Thanks!_

_[2:22 PM] From: Unknown_

_Sure! I don’t have anything going on until 5. Where should we meet? ^o^_

_[2:23 PM] To: Unknown_

_The Starbucks in the library? At three?_

_[2:23 PM] From: Unknown_

_Sounds good! :3_

Myungjun sat nervously in the library’s coffee shop, surrounded by other students getting their caffeine fix before, during, or after studying. He had texted Jinwoo from the Starbucks, which mean he had been waiting in the shop for over half an hour, bouncing his leg up and down and trying to convince himself that everything was going to be fine.

Two minutes before three (not that Myungjun was checking the time obsessively), Park Jinwoo walked into the coffee shop. He spotted Myungjun almost immediately, giving him a wide smile and a wave, and then pointing to the counter. Myungjun smiled back and hoped it didn’t look like a grimace, and then played on his phone to try and distract himself.

“Hey,” Jinwoo said a couple minutes later, dropping down into the seat across from Myungjun. “I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting you to text me.” He blew into the top of his coffee, and then started to take a drink.

Myungjun tried to smile again. “Ha, yeah,” he said, his worst fears of Jinwoo thinking of him as weird confirmed. Perhaps Jinwoo was secretly an asshole, if he was so cheerful about Myungjun needing him as a last resort. Bin usually didn’t have trouble reading people’s character, but perhaps his opinion of Jinwoo was skewed somehow. He cleared his throat, and then began to ask Jinwoo about being his model. “Look, the reason I texted you -”

“Mm,” Jinwoo interrupted, lowering his cup and and swallowing his drink. “I’m so sorry about that. I know it wasn’t exactly appropriate, but you were so cute that I had a moment of weakness. I didn’t mean to come off as pushy when I would talk to you during breaks, but when you never texted me, I thought I would ask you about it.” At this point, Jinwoo looked sheepish. “I really wanted to take you out.”

Myungjun blinked. He played the sentence in his head again, and then once more. “I’m sorry,” he said. “What?”

Jinwoo’s brows knit together. “Isn’t this about the note I left you? In that little notebook?”

Myungjun blinked some more. “Note?”

“Yeah, the one with the stickers,” Jinwoo said. They sat in silence for a moment, staring at one another. Myungjun glanced down at his portfolio, next to him since collapsing in the coffee shop since his last studio of the day. He reached down into it, and pulled out the black notebook that he hadn’t opened since the day he collided with Jinwoo.

“This one?” he asked, holding it up.

“Yeah!” Jinwoo said. “Can I?” Taking it from Myungjun’s hand, Jinwoo confidently flipped the notebook open to the first blank page, then flipped back one and passed it back to Myungjun. On the page, written in handwriting that definitely wasn’t Myungjun’s, was _You’re really cute, and I’d like to take you out when you’re having a better day! Text me and lmk!_ After that, Jinwoo’s phone number, which Myungjun had begged the art department secretary for just earlier that morning, was written in neat numbers.

“Oh,” Myungjun said. He blinked some more. “So...you don’t think I’m an idiot?”

Jinwoo’s brow furrowed again. “Why would I think that?”

“Lots of reasons,” Myungjun said. “I kind of steamrolled into you? And then offered to show you the,” he lowered his voice at the last minute, remembering that they were in public. “The nude drawings I had just done of you?”

Jinwoo gave a snort, which turned into a chuckle. “Oh god, I’m sorry,” he said immediately. “No, it was my first time being a model. My friend had to quit, and he offered my name in his place to the department. I work nights at a radio station and could use the extra cash, so I took it.” Jinwoo smiled again. “I wasn’t quite prepared to see the drawings when you offered.”

“Oh,” Myungjun said again. He took a sip of his coffee. “Okay so. You think I’m cute.”

“Extremely,” Jinwoo agreed.

“And you’ve been hoping I’d text you so that we could go on a date.”

“Yep.”

“And so when I texted you today, you thought it was me finally responding to your note?”

“That is correct,” Jinwoo said. His smile had slowly slipped off his face. “Oh god, have I read this read this wrong?”

“No!” Myungjun said immediately. “Well, I mean, kind of? Yes, a little bit, but that’s mostly my fault. I didn’t see your note.”

It was Jinwoo’s turn to blink, and then a flush very quickly spread across his cheeks. “Oh my god,” he said, bringing his hands up to cover his face. “Oh god, this is so embarrassing, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Myungjun assured him. “But I think we need to start this whole thing from the beginning.” He cleared his throat, straightening in his seat, then extended his hand across the table. “Hello stranger. My name is Kim Myungjun. I am in need of a model for my final art project, and you are an extremely hot guy that I have had a crush on for the past two months. As you can see, I am no longer flustered by running late for class, or from having a very cute guy suddenly become the nude model for my drawing class.”

As Myungjun spoke, Jinwoo let his hands fall from his face and a grin slowly spread over it. For a moment, Myungjun was terrified that Jinwoo was going to leave his hand hovering in the air, but almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, Jinwoo straightened and took his hand.

“Hello, Kim Myungjun. My name is Park Jinwoo. I am a model for the art department, and you are a very cute guy that I have been hoping to take out for the past two months. As you can see, I am no longer flustered by trying to ask you out.”

With a final shake, they let their hands drop. “Do you wanna go for a walk?” Jinwoo asked. “We can talk this whole mess out over hoteok.”

Myungjun sighed in relief, standing up and picking up his portfolio. “That sounds great,” he said.

Three weeks later, the final projects from all the students in Advanced Drawing 351 were hung on the walls of their classroom. Myungjun had brought Bin and Dongmin to see the finished product of his work - a revisited version of the first longer pose Jinwoo had done for the class, with his elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped together.

“It looks so good, hyung,” Dongmin said, smiling at him.

“Yeah, I’ve got a pretty good model,” Myungjun said.

“Nah, that’s all you,” Jinwoo countered, throwing an arm around Myungjun’s shoulders. Myungjun practically beamed with pride. After a very long walk and equally ong talk, they had come to the conclusion that they were both idiots and agreed to go on a proper date, which they both knew was a date. After that, Myungjun had walked Jinwoo to the radio station, then floated home on cloud nine. Now, they were trying out the term ‘boyfriend’. It was going swimmingly, much to Myungjun’s delight.

“I have a question,” Bin announced, stepping back from the drawing. “Was this before or after the first time you slept together?”

Three voices shouted at him at the same time, and Bin spent the next five minutes apologizing and trying to escape Myungjun’s flying hands.

Later that evening, Jinwoo rolled his to look at Myungjun. They were laid out in bed, staying the night at Jinwoo’s blessedly roommate-less apartment. “Are you ever gonna tell Bin it was after?” he asked.

Myungjun snorted, continuing to trace designs onto Jinwoo’s bare chest. “After the number of times I’ve walked in on him and Dongmin in our _living room_ , he doesn’t deserve it.” There was a beat, and then Myungjun continued, “You see him more for dance, though. If you want to traumatize him, please be my guest.

Jinwoo laughed, then brought his arms up around Myungjun to hug him tight. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to have someone run into me,” he said, tucking his chin into Myungjun’s hair.

Sighing happily, Myungjun relaxed into Jinwoo’s body. “Me neither.”

**Author's Note:**

> lololol when this was supposed to be around 3k and ended up at 5.4
> 
> my first attempt at writing fic in over six months - if characters seem off, that's why. idk what that ending is either, let's pretend it doesn't exist
> 
> inspiration comes from this [day6 fanfic.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14591436) content warning for it having the actual sex
> 
> I have never taken an advanced drawing class with nude models, so the content of the course may not be super accurate. I did take drawing for nonmajors last semester tho, so I can attest to portfolios being an actual pain in the ass
> 
> I don't use my tumblr anymore so let's have a party in the comments? i've missed y'all


End file.
